


Family

by phantomhivemast3r



Series: Detroit: Become Human Oneshots [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android-haters are still around, Dad Hank, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Oneshot, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), son connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 11:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r
Summary: The world is adjusting to life after the androids successfully gained citizenship, and Connor is getting used to living as his own person not under the control of CyberLife. Some people still can't see past the LED on his temple, but at least Connor now has a grizzled detective to back him up when things get out of hand.





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A quick note- this story takes place a few months after the android uprising, and a few more months after Connor has been staying with Hank (having no place else to go). In terms of a timeline of events, it roughly follows my previous story, Reunited, although it's not necessary to read that story to understand this one. Enjoy!

** Family **

“Are you ready, Hank?”

“Give me a minute, I’ve gotta put my shoes on!”

“Based on the way Sumo is shifting from side to side, combined with the fact that it’s been approximately two hours since your usual time to let him out, I would determine that you have approximately three and a half minutes until there’s an accident on your carpet.”

“Well then fucking _take him outside_!” Hank appeared around the corner to the hallway, hopping on one leg as he desperately tried to tug a ratty sneaker onto his other foot.

“On my own?” Connor questioned with a mild frown.

“Yes! You- _Jesus Christ_!” Hank nearly toppled over, luckily managing to catch himself on the wall. He sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. “You have the leash in your hand already, Connor; just go. I’ll be right out.”

“…Certainly, Hank.” Connor only hesitated for a second before turning on his heel and opening the door, giving the leash a light tug. “Come on, Sumo.”

With an excited bark, Sumo followed the android out into the front yard. The air outside was crisp with the oncoming feeling of spring, though the sky was covered in a thin layer of clouds that blocked all direct sunlight. Connor led Sumo to the appropriate spot in the corner of the yard and turned away as the dog did his business.

As Connor waited, he surveyed the neighborhood he currently resided in. Of course, he’d memorized the layout of the area months ago and knew the quickest route to get wherever he or Hank needed to go. However, he never got much of a chance to enjoy the neighborhood itself. This wasn’t because Connor was prevented from leaving the house; Connor was his own person, and Hank fully encouraged him to live his own life and _not_ glue himself to the detective’s side twenty-four-seven.

But, Connor and Hank both knew that no matter where they went, there was always the danger of an anti-android enthusiast taking out their aggression on the robotic investigator. It had happened more times than they liked to think about, and it seemed that Hank’s neighborhood contained an unfortunate amount of these negative people.

“Hey, tin head!” Connor turned as a voice called to him from across the street. The android’s LED temporarily flashed yellow and he gripped Sumo’s leash tighter.

“Hello, Arlo,” Connor said, putting on a smile as a person crossed the road to stand on the sidewalk a few feet away. Arlo was a sallow man in his late thirties, with dark hair, dark eyes, and an even bleaker personality. Hank always had some choice words to say when Arlo came around, although at the moment, the elder detective was still somewhere inside the house.

“What are you doing outside by yourself?” Arlo asked, crossing his arms and jutting out a hip in a posture that Connor perceived as deceptively threatening.

“I’m taking Sumo for a walk,” Connor answered simply, gesturing towards the dog. Finished with his personal mission, Sumo trotted over and parked himself at Connor’s side, tail wagging slowly.

“Where’s your owner?” Arlo spared a quick glance towards Hank’s house.

“Since I reside here as well, Hank has given me permission to also act as Sumo’s-”

“Not the fucking _dog’s_ \- I mean _your_ owner. That geezer’s always so paranoid of letting you wander, I never thought I’d see you by yourself.”

Connor gave the human a curt smile.

“I don’t _have_ an owner; Hank is my coworker and friend.”

Arlo snorted unattractively. “Sure, and I’m the fucking Messiah.”

“…That analogy doesn’t make very much sense,” Connor said, frowning. Arlo rolled his eyes.

“Of course, you wouldn’t understand. Listen, I’ll ask you one more time: where’s Hank?”

Connor’s frown deepened, his LED flashing red as Arlo shifted into a more upright position. “What do you want to speak with Lieutenant Anderson about?”

“ _Ugh_!” Arlo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I’m not asking you to fucking quiz me, tin head!”

“You seem to be agitated,” Connor said matter-of-factly. “I’m merely trying to assess the situation and determine how best to help you.”

“I _told_ you what I want! God, I didn’t think becoming deviant made androids stupid, too…”

“Actually, my logical processors have been working at an advanced capacity since I-”

“Jesus, shut _up_!” Suddenly, Arlo stepped forward and grabbed Connor by the front of his shirt, shaking him roughly. Sumo snarled, teeth bared, but Connor held out a hand signaling for the dog to stop.

“Down, Sumo,” he commanded gently, not taking his eyes off the human. Now that Arlo was so close, Connor detected a hint of a very illegal substance lingering on the man’s breath. He reasoned this was why Arlo was so physically aggressive and made a note to tell Hank about it later.

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!” As if summoned by Connor’s thoughts, Hank’s voiced yelled from the vicinity of his house.

“Your robot has a major attitude, Hank,” Arlo said, shoving Connor away and releasing the android’s shirt. Unprepared for the abrupt push, Connor stumbled backwards, ramming into Hank’s chest as the detective rushed over to the pair on the sidewalk. Hank gave a small _oof_ as he caught Connor and righted him.

“My apologies, Hank,” Connor said, moving out of the way as Hank stepped up to confront his neighbor.

“Not your fault, Connor,” the detective replied in a tone indicating that he’d repeated this phrase many times before. He jammed a finger into Arlo’s chest, eyes dangerously wild as Sumo’s growling increased tenfold. “What the hell did I tell you about leaving him alone, asshole?!”

“What does it matter to you?!” Arlo shot back, slapping Hank’s hand away. “You used to _hate_ androids, and now you’re sticking up for one and letting it _live with you_. And not as a housekeeper, but as a ‘friend,’ as that thing put it.” Arlo’s face twisted into an expression of outright disgust. “I don’t know what kind of ‘friendship’ you have with it, but that’s _really_ fucking weird, man.”

Hank didn’t miss a beat, taking an aggressive step forward as he said loudly, “He’s not my fucking boyfriend, you prick, he’s my _son!”_

As was becoming an increasingly common occurrence, Connor had no idea how to react to the current situation. Neither did Arlo, for he stood there slack-jawed, eyes slowly wandering from Hank to Connor and back again. Hank seemed to have momentarily frozen, unmoving as his own brain tried to process what he’d just said. Even Sumo stopped growling, joining the humans in stunned silence.

Eventually, Arlo let out a nervous sort of laugh, mumbling, “What the fuck…?”

“Hank-”

“Connor, not now,” Hank cut the android off, straightening himself into a more authoritative posture. He squared his shoulders and took another aggressive step towards Arlo. “You heard what I said, asshole, so I’d suggest from now on, you _leave us both the fuck alone._ ”

“You have some _major_ issues, man,” Arlo responded, taking a step backwards. He raised his hands, palms forward, in a movement signaling that the physical confrontation was over. “That thing’s a _machine._ ”

“Yeah, and he’s also got a better moral compass than most of the people in this damn country. This conversation’s done; run on home, Arlo.”

Arlo pursed his lips briefly, eyes narrowed. Connor worried about another potential altercation, but to his relief Arlo clucked his tongue and began walking back to his house without another word.

“Oh, by the way,” Hank called, shoving a hand in his pocket and letting the other one hand leisurely at his side. Arlo paused, angling his head back towards the Lieutenant. “Don’t think I don’t know about the drugs; if I catch you with another bag of that Red Ice, Connor and I are busting your ass.” Arlo opened his mouth to speak, but Hank placed his free hand on Connor’s shoulder and flashed a wicked smile. “You _do_ realize that you’re essentially on camera when he’s looking at you, right?”

“I have unlimited memory storage and can upload data obtained by my sensory organs to any compatible device,” Connor added, and Hank gave his shoulder an approving squeeze.

Arlo clenched his hands into fists, whirling around as if about to rush back towards them and start swinging. However, one glance at Connor’s serene, ever-recording eyes caused him to think better of this. With an exaggerated huff of annoyance, he hurriedly walked back to his house, slamming the door behind him.

“I’ve been trying to bust that asshole for months, but he’s sneakier than he looks,” Hank mumbled, removing his hand from Connor’s shoulder and turning back to his own house.

“Are we not taking Sumo for a walk?” Connor questioned, holding the leash out to the detective, who shook his head.

“Not after that shit; I need a drink.”

“This will be your fourth out of the suggested maximum five drinks this week, Hank.” Connor’s tone was vaguely chiding as he led Sumo back inside the house, closing the door behind him. Hank grunted in unconcerned acknowledgement and detached Sumo’s leash from his collar, giving the dog a vigorous pet before wandering over to the fridge.

Connor watched Hank as he went through the familiar routine. He knew he should be reciting the health hazards of continuing to consume excessive amounts of alcohol, but his mind was preoccupied with another, all-consuming thought. Connor frowned, eyes shifting to the ground, trying to work through how he personally felt before attempting to confront Hank about it.

“Alright, what’s bugging you now? Is the carpet dirty again?”

Connor flinched and jerked his head up, amazed that he’d actually been _startled,_ especially by a man who was not known for his quiet presence. Hank stood in front of him, a freshly-opened beer in his hand. The detective took a swig of the drink and raised an eyebrow.

“I…” Connor’s LED flickered yellow, revealing his uncertainty. Hank sighed.

“You thinking about what I said to Arlo?” he asked. Connor frowned, opening his mouth to ask how he knew, but Hank cut him off with a short laugh. “I might be getting older, but I’m sure as hell not getting any less observant; I saw that look on your face.”

“You… called me your son,” Connor said slowly, his eyes meeting Hank’s. The detective nodded, taking another drink.

“That I did.”

“But… you _had_ a son. A _real_ son.”

“That’s also true.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Jesus, to I have to spell it out for you?!” Hank rolled his eyes and heaved another, more dramatic sigh. It was his turn to focus his gaze towards the dog fur-covered carpet. “Just because I already had a son doesn’t… I mean… People can have more than one kid, Connor, and... I care about you. As obnoxious as you can be, you’ve… kinda cemented yourself into my life.”

“Hank, I’ve told you that I don’t have to stay here,” Connor spoke up, placing a light hand on the detective's upper arm. The idea that Hank was just being polite in letting Connor stay always lingered in the back of the android’s mind. From the first day he’d been welcomed into Hank’s home, he’d resolved himself to the fact that he could be kicked out at any moment.

“ _No_ ,” Hank said sternly, putting his free hand over Connor’s. His grip was tighter than expected. “I mean, you’re not trapped; you _can_ leave if you want. You just seemed to settle in pretty well here, so I thought I’d give you a permanent place to stay if you wanted it. Plus, god knows why, Sumo’s damn near obsessed with you.”

Connor blinked rapidly, trying to process the underlying meaning of Hank’s words as the detective released his hand. Summoned by his name, Sumo meandered over from his resting spot in the kitchen, giving the fingers hanging lax by Connor’s side a friendly lick.

“…I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what else I’m supposed to say here,” Hank said eventually, as Connor absently scratched behind Sumo’s ears.

“Maybe… you don’t have to _say_ anything?” Connor posed this as a question, eyes meeting Hank’s once again. Hank raised an eyebrow, and Connor hesitantly spread out his arms.

“Jesus,” Hank muttered again, this time with a dry chuckle.

Connor knew full well that Hank shied away from physical affection like it was the plague- hence the reason the only true hug they’d shared was a few months ago, on the day when they were finally reunited after the android revolution. Therefore, Connor expected Hank to either push him away or, more likely, mutter some snide comment and retreat to his typical place on the couch to watch whatever mindless drabble was on TV that afternoon.

As Connor began to lower his arms, Hank all but dropped his beer on the floor in order to put it down as quickly as possible. Connor paused, arms mid-way between straight in front of him and level with his sides, tilting his head curiously. Hank took a few steps forward and wrapped the android in the biggest bear hug he could manage. He squeezed tightly, cinching Connor’s arms at his sides and leaving him unable to easily get free.

Not that the he _wanted_ to go anywhere, Connor realized as his face split into a surprised smile. Based on the tight tug on his cheek muscles, Connor could feel that this was a _real_ smile- not a pre-programmed reaction to a situation, but a smile born out of the deviancy that had given him true humanity. He let himself sink into Hank’s embrace, resting his forehead against the detective’s shoulder. While Connor could never truly “relax,” he reasoned that this was as close to the feeling as he would get.

They stayed like that for a few seconds longer, before Hank gave Connor an abrupt pat on the back, causing the android to raise his head.

“Alright,” Hank said awkwardly. He unclamped his arms, only to grasp Connor’s shoulders before he had a chance to walk away. Hank’s expression was serious as he met Connor’s gaze. “Are your concerns settled now?”

“For the most part, yes,” Connor answered truthfully. “Although you may need to work on your emphatic approach tactics; part of that encounter was rather awkward.”

Hank began to groan, but stopped when Connor cracked a half-smile. Playfully, Hank pushed Connor away and rolled his eyes.

“Holy shit, you _do_ have an attitude now,” Hank said, feigning exasperation in his voice.

“Behavior is learned first and foremost from the parental figure,” Connor responded matter-of-factly, still wearing a half-smile. Hank opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to come up with a witty retort to such a pure statement.

“Come on,” he eventually said, picking his beer up from the floor and jerking his head towards the living room. “The game should be on. Hey, remind me what the stats are again?”

“Sure, Hank,” Connor answered, already accessing the database of the current season’s player statistics. He began reciting these facts as he and Hank sat on the couch, settling into the home that he now didn’t give a second thought about calling his own.


End file.
